


Team Fortress 2: A Tale of Friendship

by orphan_account



Series: Team Fortress Series: A Tale of Friendship [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 03:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1884417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nine men. Nine destinies. Who will survive this horrible war? Nobody is sure, but nobody is leaving anybody behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet the Team (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> Wassuuuuuup, first chapter up! :D

Chapter 1- Meet the Team (Part 1)

Vance sighed as he waited for the train to arrive. He had been sitting on the bench for about half-an-hour and the Australian sun wasn’t forgiving. He wrapped his scarf around his neck even tighter, attempting to hide his neck. He gave out an irritated growl as precipitation started to form at his neck, making him tug at the scarf in annoyance. He pushed himself off of the bench when he heard the oncoming train whistle. He whistled as an old train came into the station.

"Welcome, Mr. Mundy." A woman in purple greeted him with a kind smile.

"G’Day." He replied simply. The woman gave him a brochure, which contained a map of the train and a map of the place he was stationed at. 2Fort. Inresting name, to say at least. The front of it had nine symbols, in order it was a foot with wings, a rocket, a flame, a spiky ball, a fist, a wrench, a medical sign, a scope, and a knife. He had the scope stitched on his shoulder.

"I’m Sophia Pauling, but you can call me Miss Pauling." She said, tipping her cats’-glasses upwards, balancing it on her nose bridge.

"Your teammates will be arriving shortly. The train ride will take approximately five hours, so make yourself comfortable." She said, nodding to one of the many chairs. He took the one in the very back, setting his duffle bag down in the seat next to him. He felt the train shift, then it started to roll. He looked out the window for a few minutes, but decided to look away. Nothing but rocks and dirt, and maybe the occasional cactus. He pushed his aviator’s up the bridge of his nose, and looked at the ground.

"Next stop, Stuttgart, Germany!" Miss Pauling announced over the PA. Vance’s head snapped up as he looked out the window again, but all he could see was darkness. He looked around frantically, trying to rub his eyes to clear his darkened vision, but to no avail. He slowly closed his eyes and fell asleep not moments later.

 

The sound of the train door opening awoke Vance from his slumber. His back straightened as he stared at the man before him. He had a white beak-mask, similar to one of those Plague Doctors, just without the breathing mask. He had a small, nervous smile beneath the mask. He had a dark, bloodstained red leather apron over his doctors coat with a medical cross on the left side and a pocket on his right containing right angled surgical forceps.

"Guten Tag, Herr Sniper!" The man’s accent was heavily German.

"Err… G’Day…" Vance said slowly, eyeing the blood on his apron.

"Mien name is Sven, I vill be your Medic!"

"G’Day, Sven. My name is Vance. Noice ta’ meet ya’." He said, nodding at the seat in front of him, which the man took gratefully. The man had a rather large looking backpack still wrapped around his back.

"Ya’ might wanna put that thing down, it’s gonna be a long ride, ‘nd we don’t want our Medic being tired ‘nd all, yeah?" The Australian said, smiling at the man. The man let out a nervous chuckle and put his bag down and slumping in his seat.

"Danke, Herr Sni-I mean Herr Vance."

"Don’t mention it." Vance said, waving his hand. He looked out the window and saw it snowing.

"Wait, weren’t we just in Australia?" Vance asked, confused.

"Nien, ve are in Stuttgart, Germany, mien hometown." Sven confirmed, smiling lightly at the confused man.

"Alright everyone! Next stop, Bee Cave, Texas!"

Sven stared at Miss Pauling, confusion written all over his beaked-face. Sven glanced at Vance, but he only replied with a shrug.

Darkness consumed the pair yet again.

 

The opening of the door awakened the two men again. Vance rubbed his eyes as he sat up from his slumped position, finding a crick in his neck. Sven let out a groggy groan as he slowly moved his red gloved hands under his mask to rub at his eyes. They soon saw a small man. He seemed to be older than Vance, by a couple of years in fact. The man was talking to Miss Pauling when she pointed to the two. He said something else and waddled over to the two taller men. He had a large backpack strapped to his back, which he pushed under his seat.

"Well Howdy! The name’s Tony Conagher!" Tony said, smiling brightly. He had a red striped train cap and a pair of goggles that hid his eyes. He had a partially zipped thick jacket with the sleeves rolled up. He had a red hooded sweatshirt with the hood peeking out the back. On both of his arms there are red armbands with a wrench stitched on.

"G’Day, mate. Name’s Vance, Oi’m tha Snoipa." Vance greeted, holding out his hand shake.

"Guten Tag, Herr Conagher. I’m Sven, and I’m zhe Medic." Sven said, smiling a little bit under his mask.

The man took ahold of Vance’s hand and shook vigorously. “Pleased ta’ meet y’all!” He had a rather large Texan accent. Vance glanced around, then his eyes met the window. He stared out. It was a small town, filled with minimal people. There was at least ten people outside the train.

"That yer family?" Vance asked curiously. Tony nodded, smiling and waving to the folks.

"Alright folks, sit down and enjoy the ride while you can, cuz we’re going to France!"

Tony gave a glance at Miss Pauling, eyes searching for an explanation.

"But goin’ from here ta’ France will take at least a day by plane, and what about tha’ sea an’-" he did not get to finish. He was quickly pulled down to sit next to Vance. He had taken the liberty to move his duffle bag under his seat.

"Don’t question it, just go along with it, mate." the Australian said, shaking his head.

The three were soon consumed by darkness yet again.

 

The three awoke to the sound of the door opening, but after they had shaken the grogginess out of their eyes, their teammate was no where to be seen?

"Oh come on, Spy. At least introduce yourself." Miss Pauling said, staring into blank space. The other three looked around for their new teammate, but to no avail. Only when Vance sat down, did he feel something on his seat.

Or rather someone.

The man yelped when the Australian sat on him, the movement making him deactivate his cloak. The Australian yelped in surprise and launched himself at Sven, who had quickly caught the man.

"Mon Dieu, jour ‘eavy!" the man in Vance’s seat exclaimed unhappily. He was wearing a balaclava over his face, hiding his hair. He had an open dress shirt and a red colored paisley cravat and gold buttons on his shirt and suit. He had a fancy suitcase stashed next to Vance’s duffle bag.

"Hooley Dooley, who tha’ ‘ell are you?!" The Australian asked, shaking violently from the scare he just received. The masked man huffed and said, "I’m zhe Spy, but jou can call me Alan, since we are teammates after all."

"Alright, Alan!" Tony exclaimed, smacking Alan on the back harshly, getting a cough out of the Frenchman. "Tha’ name’s Tony Conagher! Engineer! Pleased ta’ meet ya’!" The Texan said, smiling.

"Mien name is Sven. Medic." Sven said, smiling lightly under his mask. He quickly pushed the Australian off of him.

Vance grumbled, hitting the floor, “Name’s Vance, Snoipa, not Heavy.”

Vance quickly picked his duffle bag off of the floor and walked over to the seat parallel to Alan, between Tony and Sven.

"Speaking of Heavy, next stop, Siberia, Russia!"

Alan stared at the other men, who gave a shrug in response. They were engulfed in darkness again, and Vance just sighed and let sleep overtake him.

 

When they woke up, they were surrounded by the chilly air of Siberia, Russia. The man standing next to Miss Pauling was way taller than the two tallest, Vance and Alan.

"Guys! This is Heavy Weapons Guy, but you can call him Heavy!" Miss Pauling said, shoving the man towards them.

Sven stared at the man in awe. He rummaged around in his backpack and pulled out a measuring tape.

"U-Umm… M-May I?" Sven asked timidly. The man stared down at Sven, then gave a curt nod. He stood up straight. Sven had to stand on the bench in front, since the chairs they were currently occupying was filled.

"Wow! Mien Gott you’re tall! Six foot two…"

The man wore a hat which was black and hung over his ears. He had on a pair of knee pads, straps clipped to his belt and a blast pad over his left shoulder. He was wearing a red t shirt and a white undershirt under that. The man simply shrugged and said, “Was born that way, not big surprise.” He had a rather large Russian accent, accompanied by broken English. He had a bag slung over his back.

Sven sat down next to the man, his height a major difference. Vance sighed as he took Sven’s seat.

"Alright, everyone, next stop is Boston, Massachusetts!"

Heavy didn’t bat an eye at the announcement, he was too busy looking out the window to notice. Vance fell asleep soon after the darkness consumed them.

 

A loud chattering awoke five men already sitting in the train. They looked up and saw a rather young man. He looked to be about twenty five. He had on a red, high collar track jacket with a white trim and the sleeves rolled up the elbows. He had a red tinted beige cadet hat with a foot and wings emblazoned on the front, with red goggles placed above the brim. He had a single, black backpack strapped around his back. He had a cocky smile on his lips as he chatted with Miss Pauling, who rolled her eyes and told him to go ‘talk with the team.’

"Oh, hey! The name’s Nick, but call me Nicky ‘nd you get a headful of bat, ya got ‘dat? I’m gonna be the Scout, so try to keep up, yea?" he rambled.

"O-Oh… Guten Tag, Herr Scout. Mien name is Sven, I am your Medic." Sven introduced first. He nudged Heavy, who gave the doctor a surprised look. They seem to have bonded fast.

"I am Heavy Weapons Guy. But you can call me Heavy." Heavy said, glaring at the doctor, who didn’t flinch under the giants gaze.

"Name’s Vance. Snoipa." Vance said, smirking as Alan started to speak, but was cut off by the Australian.

"… Alan. Spy." Alan said, folding his arms and leaning back into his chair.

"Tony Conagher, Engineer!" Tony said cheerfully.

Nick sat in the aisle next to theirs, stretching his legs over the seats.

"So, where to next, Miss Pauling?" he asked, smiling at the woman in a flirty way.

She rolled her eyes and spoke into the PA, “Next stop, California!”

"Wait, why’re we goin’ to California?" Nick asked, bewildered.

"Ta’ pick up our next teammate, of course!" Tony explained, grabbing Vance’s shoulder into a firm pat. The other man winced when his gloved hand hit his shoulder.

The men were in darkness yet again.

 

(Nazi Mention in this part, just skip it... You aren't missing much, it's just Soldier yelling at Medic anyways.)

When they woke up, they were in for a big surprise. They were being yelled at.

"MAGGOTS, UP AND AT ‘EM, THIS IS NO PLACE TO BE ASLEEP." A harsh voice called out. Somebody picked Vance up from his sleepy stupor and was quickly dragged out of his seat.

"Hooley Dooley!" Vance exclaimed, his jaw hitting the hard, wooden ground beneath him.

"Vhy vould you do zhat to Herr Vance?!" Sven asked, standing up and helping Vance up.

"HE WAS IN THE WAY AND HE WAS ASLEEP. ONLY CIVILIANS SLEEP AROUND LIKE THAT."

"Zhat’s no excuse to THROW your teammate to zhe ground!" Sven argued, grabbing an ice pack from his surgeons smock and sitting Vance down next to the massive Russian.

"WELL, IF I HAVE TO WORK WITH MAGGOTS LIKE YOU, YOU’LL HAVE TO GET USED TO ME." The man said. Vance got a good look at the man. He had a red overcoat that has shoulder boards, a flap that is folded from the left to the right, with dark red buttons and cuffs on his wrist with darker colored seams, underneath which the ends of the dress shirt are seen. Underneath the coat is a white dress shirt with a black tie. He also wore a brown belt with a silver buckle in the middle.

"Ugh…" Vance said, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Another loud one.

"Well now, mister Loud mouth, what’s yer’ name?" Tony asked, crossing his arms.

"THE NAME’S JAMES GULL, AGE THIRTY-SEVEN. I WAS A PART OF THE KILLING OF NAZI SCUM IN POLAND!" He said proudly, "WHICH REMINDS ME…" He said, turning back around to the German. He quickly lifted the man to the nearby wall, getting a surprised yelp from the masked man.

"WHAT’S YOUR NAME, GERMAN?!" he demanded, pushing Sven up onto the wall by his doctor’s collar. Vance quickly stepped up to intervene, but Alan held him back.

"Mien name is Sven. You’d better put me down before I dissect you for science!" Sven said, glaring at James from behind his mask.

"HA! AND WHAT’S A PUNY LITTLE NAZI SUPPOSED TO DO WITH ME?!"

"Oh I can do a lot, like, not healing you in battle, not checking you for any infections after you had somehow healed yourself in battle… You will slowly die." Sven said, smirking at James’ shocked face.

"… WHATEVER." James said, sitting down next to Nick, who was chattering away to Alan, who wasn’t paying attention.

"Name’s Nick, that’s Alan, Tony, the guy next to Sven is Heavy and the guy you just threw is Vance!" Nick explained, pointing to every individual he had called out.

Alan growled the moment his name was mumbled, Heavy shot Nick a glare, Tony just smiled and waved, while Sven and Vance were trying to heal his jaw.

"Alright! Next stop, Scotland!"

"WHAT?! AREN’T WE STAYING IN GOOD ‘OL AMERICA?!" James loudly protested. Even Nick took a moment off from babbling to cover his ears.

"Nope! We need to pick up the last Mercenary and then we can return!"

James grumbled, folding his arms. He only had a bag.

"Wait, I thought jou said zhere was going to be NINE Mercenaries?" Alan asked, his French accent giving out. James gave a glare at Alan, who quickly shrunk back.

Before James could lash out at the Frenchman, Miss Pauling said, “Yeah, but the ninth one decided to drive there itself.”

"Wait, ‘Itself’?" Alan questioned, confused. Miss Pauling waved the question off, "No need to worry, you’ll meet it soon!"

The seven men were soon consumed by total darkness yet one more time.

 

When they awoke, they awoke to the sound of glass shattering. Vance looked up from his sitting position and saw a black man. The most interesting thing about him was his left eye. Or rather the absence of his left eye. He had an eyepatch over his eye. He had on a gold-trimmed bicorne, a large skull and crossbones is emblazoned across the front, and a set of red feathers are pinned to the back. He had a golden earring stuck in his right ear.

"Hullo!" He slurred, obviously drunk.

"G’Day." Vance replied, passing the ice pack back to the doctor, "Thanks, Doc." to which Sven replied with a curt nod.

“‘re ya’ drunk or sommin’?” Nick asked, staring at the black man’s eyepatch.

"Ye." The man said, slurring his wording.

"WHAT’S YOUR NAME, MAGGOT?!" James asked, immediately throwing nonsensible questions towards the man.

"Tha’ name’s Vincent DeGroot. I’m drunk, as you can probably tell." He belched, which Sven received with a wince.

Vincent decided to ignore James, and immediately sat on top of Alan.

"Mon Dieu not again!" Alan exclaimed, pushing the drunk Scot off of him.

"Oh I’m not done with you, cruton!" James exclaimed, attacking Alan with a barrage of questions, none of them Alan answered.

"Look, mate. Get away from the poor lad." Vincent said, oblivious to the man’s rage.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME, MAGGOT?!" James asked, pushing his hat up to meet crystal eyes-err, a crystal eye.

"I said, get away from tha’ lad. He’s scared shitless, as you can probably not tell." The drunken man said, swinging his bottle dangerously close to the Texan’s face. True to the Scotsman’s word, Alan was shaking in fear and was staring at the two men in front of him, not liking the attention he was receiving.

"OH. OH! I SEE HOW IT IS. VINCENT, IF THAT IS EVEN YOUR REAL NAME, IS STICKING UP FOR A FRENCHIE CRUTON!" James called out, pointing an accusing finger at Vincent. Vincent glanced at Tony with one eye and leaned towards him, whispering, "Is he always like this?"

"Dunno, only met him an hour ago." Tony replied, shrugging.

"SCOTLAND ISN’T EVEN A REAL COUNTRY!" James said, matter-of-factly. Now he has hit a nerve.

"Wot did ya’ say aboot me country…?" Vincent asked slowly.

"I SAID, SCOTLAND ISN’T A REAL COU-" he didn’t get the chance to finish. Vincent was straddling the man and was holding his now empty bottle above his head. He grabbed the man’s collar and pulled him up.

"Say that again." He growled. The man didn’t bat an eye.

"I SAID… SCOTlAND iSN’T A REAL COUNTRY!" He bellowed into the Scots face. The bottle came down with a sickening crash. Vance stepped up and picked the angry Scot off of the American.

"Calm down, Mate! We don’t wanna be down one member already!" Vance said, nodding at Sven, who was quickly checking over the bruised man’s wounds.

"Ooooh… You broke his nose. Looks like I’ll have to set it back in place…" Sven said, wincing lightly, before his mouth became a sadistic smile.

"Now where to?" the silent giant asked after the Scot calmed down.

"Next stop, Teufort, New Mexico!" Miss Pauling’s voice exclaimed over the PA. Alan was now calmed, asleep, his head lolling over Tony’s shoulder. Tony glanced the Frenchman and smiled lightly. Nick saw the two and tried to call out, but Tony gave him a deadly glare, and that quickly shut him up.

 

Author’s Note: Don’t worry! Pyro is coming up next! This is only the first chapter! ^_^ The cosmetics used in this fanfiction are as followed:

Vance:  
http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Chronomancer  
http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Criminal_Cloak

Sven:  
http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Blighted_Beak  
http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Smock_Surgeon

Tony:  
http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Engineer%27s_Cap  
http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Antarctic_Researcher

Alan:  
http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Au_Courant_Assassin

Pasha/Heavy:  
http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Officer%27s_Ushanka  
http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Combat_Slacks

Nick:  
http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Hermes  
http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Track_Terrorizer

James:  
http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Rebel_Rouser  
http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Classified_Coif

Vincent:  
http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Buccaneer%27s_Bicorne


	2. Chapter 2: Meet the Team (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The teams meets the Pyro and have their first dinner together!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooo, chapter 2 is up!!! Chapter 3 will be up shortly! Chapter 4 is still a work in progress, but it'll PROBABLY be up by tomorrow or something...

Chapter 2: Meet the Team (part 2)

 

Vance slowly awakened to hear snoring around him. He looked to his left and saw Sven and Heavy. Sven's head was lolled on the giant's shoulder. The giant's head was lolled back, snoring gently. He looked to his right. He saw Alan laying on Tony's lap and Tony's hand was on Alan's shoulder protectively. He saw Vincent and James, arm in arm, asleep laying next to each other. He saw Nick lying on his back, alone and silent. He had his leg's propped up so one knee was up and the other leg was swung across the other. He slowly stood, approaching the boy.

"'Ey, why you still awake?" Vance asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Nick jumped up and said in a startled tone, "Whoa, Vance, you still awake?"

"Yeah, just woke up. What time is it? Where're we?" Vance asked, giving a yawn and sitting in front of Nick. Nick sat down normally, swinging his legs over the edge of the seat.

"It's about four am. We're in New Mexico. Miss Pauling said that we should arrive in another hour. James is gonna wake up soon." Nick said, ticking off the seconds with his fingers. When his finger reached one, Vance heard James yell out in shock and he heard a thud. Vincent had also woke up.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" James yelled, waking everybody up. Alan woke up, groggily and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Tony smiled when Alan glanced up and saw the man, blushing and scrambling off. Sven blushed and the giant man just smiled lightly, patting the doctor on the head.

"WHY DOES MY NOSE HURT?!" James asked again. He had been knocked out after the incident with Vincent.

"Ah, zhat could be Herr Vincent's fault. He broke your nose, so I took the liberty to set it for you." Sven said, fixing his mask so that it fit more comfortably.

"OH. WELL, THANKS, I GUESS." James said, saluting to the German. The German just smirked scornfully and said back, "You're welcome."

Vincent mumbled lightly, complaining about his aching head. "Zhat's what jou get for drinking too much." Alan giggled, smiling lightly. He poked the man on the floor with his shoe, chuckling harder when the man rolled over.

"Heh. We sure are a weird bunch, ain't we?" Vance asked, glancing back at Nick. Nick just smiled lightly, "Yea."

"Look out guys! We will be arriving in Teufort soon! Don't destroy any buildings!" Miss Pauling warned the mercenaries.

"Alright!" Nick said back, winking and giving Miss Pauling a thumbs up. Miss Pauling just rolled her eyes at him.

"ALRIGHT MAGGOTS, GATHER YOUR BAGS, WE CANNOT LEAVE OUR STUFF HERE!" James exclaimed, picking up his sack. The Russian picked his bag up. Alan picked up his suit case and Nick his backpack. Sven picked his backpack up and strapped it back onto his back. Vincent had to look around for his items, but then found them with Miss Pauling. Tony picked up his backpack and strapped it on his bag, something metallic hitting each other inside. Vance picked up his duffle bag and swung it across his chest and strapped it onto his back.

"LET'S TAKE THE CIVILIAN'S BY STORM!" James yelled, smiling brightly.

"Whoa! Didn' Miss Pauling just say NOT to attack anyone?" Tony asked, adjusting his goggles.

"NAH, SHE JUST SAID TO NOT TO DESTROY ANY BUILDINGS." James confirmed. Miss Pauling started to say something, but was cut off by James giving out a war cry. The train came to an abrupt stop, flinging James to the ground. Vance huffed and said, "Serves ya' right, wanka'." 

Vance was the first to come out, meeting the eyes of many civilians. He pulled on his cowl, pulling it forward. He pushed his aviators over his eyes since they were tilting down. He tipped his hat and said, "G'Day."

Nick came out next, fixing his cap and putting the goggles on the base of the cap again. Tony came out next, fiddling with his jacket. Vincent came out, holding a cup of water and an asprin given to him from Sven. Sven come out next, nervous. Heavy came out after, putting a giant hand on the shivering German. Alan came out, smoking a cigarette. James finally came out, apparently calmed down after a lengthy discussion with Miss Pauling.

Vance smirked as they all boarded several taxi's. Vance had to sit with Nick, since he was the only one who could put up with all of his chatter. Miss Pauling sat with them, but Vance sat between Nick and Pauling. Sven and Heavy shared a taxi, nobody else could sit where Heavy sits. Tony and Alan shared a taxi, which left Vincent with James. When they heard the nasty crunch of Vincent's bottle upon James' skull, that was when Vincent dragged an unconscious James into the taxi. They decided on that in the train early.

Vance chuckled at the taxi driver's alarmed face when Vincent threw the unconscious body into the taxi. Vance sighed as he relaxed, inquiring, "When're we gonna get there?"

"In about half-an-hour, so keep still." Miss Pauling said, smiling lightly.

Vance decided to watch the scenery outside, but decided against it. There was nothing but rocks and dirt. He gave out a small yawn and Nick stared at him, then asked, "Dude, why're you still tired?" 

"Dunno." Vance replied, shrugging.

"Man, I can't believe this! We're gonna beat some people up! Finally!" Nick said excitedly. Vance only nodded and gave the occasional grunt when Nick asked if he was listening. 

Half-an-hour passed without a trouble for the three in the cab. Alan had managed to fall asleep again on Tony's shoulder, and Vincent and James-thankfully-did not break the taxi cab. Once Miss Pauling stopped the taxi, the other two behind them stopped behind them. She paid the taxi drivers and they drove off. They saw a large, red building. 

"Eh…?" Alan asked, looking at his brochure. "Zhis should be zhe front entrance?" He asked Miss Pauling, pointing to the gate. SHe nodded and pulled out a key. She pushed the key into it's hole and jiggled it around, unlocking the lock. She then took the chain off and opened the door.

"Your dorms are to the right, Vincent, take James into his room. The kitchen is in the Southern wing. Tony and Vincent will have to share a lab, Sven will have his own lab." Miss Pauling explained, pointing to each individual room. She then gave each of the mercenaries their own room keys.

"Alroight…" Vance said, scratching the back of his neck. He shared a room between Sven and Alan. Alan had the room at the end of the hall. It was a series of nine rooms in one singular hallway. Heavy slept in the room between Tony's and Vincent's. Then a loud bang resounded from the kitchen. Vance instinctively reached for his Shiv, which he had already unpacked and was washing it with his washcloth.

"Tha' hell was that?" He heard Nick's Boston accent ring out from the other end of the hall. Nick ran down the hallway and pulled Vance out, pulling him to the kitchen. He had a wooden baseball bat and a baseball. Vance held onto his hat as he was rushed out of his room and to the kitchen. He had his SMG in hand along with his Shiv attached to his belt.

"Oh c'mon guys, it's just Pyro." Miss Pauling said, rolling her eyes. 

"P-Pyro?" Nick asked, pushing the door open. He was greeted with black orbs. He jumped back and bumped into Vance, who gave out a grunt. Nick let out a rather girlish screech of terror and started to run away. The… Thing, just tilted it's head in curiosity, poking Vance's chest.

"Err… Pyro?" Vance asked, staring at the man… Woman… Thing under the mask, trying to identify it's gender.

"Mmph!" Pyro's eyes turned up to stare at Vance at the mention of it's name. He could kind of tell if it was smiling.

"My name's Vance, Snoipa." Vance said, smiling lighty. The thing jumped up and down happily, waving it's arms enthusiastically. Vance only smiled and patted the thing's head gently.

"Hey, Vance!" Tony called. Vance's smiled at the short man approaching the two. "What's up, Mate?" Vance asked, smiling lightly.

"Well, I need ta' borrow Py over here. He is needed to air blast some dust off of my workshop." Pyro nodded and wielded his flamethrower, which was sitting on the floor.

Vance nodded and said, "Go ahead, I ain't doin' nothin' at the moment. Just gotta finish unpackin'." Vance nodded again as if confirming his thoughts. He walked back to his room, hands in his vest pockets. He gave out a small yawn and looked out the given window. It was nearing night time, and night time meant two of his favorite things: food and sleep! A smile formed on his lips as he quickly unpacked his extra vests, shirts and jeans into the given closet. He sat on his bed and continue to clean his weapons. Once his Shiv was clean, he started to oil his gun. After a few hours of doing just that, he got a knock on his door. He opened the door and Alan was there.

"Bonjour Vance! Dinner is ready!" Alan had a frilly, pink apron on.

"Err… Alroight, Mate? Wot's up with tha' apron?"

"Oh zhis? Eet was zhe only thing zhat fit me. Ozzer zhan zhat, eet was an ugly, black one." He said as if it was obvious.

"… Roight." Vance said, side-stepping away from Alan, locking his door and putting the key in his vest pocket.

"So, wot's fer dinner?" Vance asked, as they walked down the hallway.

"Roast chicken! Apparently Pyro has a knack of cooking!" Alan said happily, licking his lips in anticipation.

"Mmm… That's probably why he's called 'Pyro'. Short for 'Pyrotechnician', probably." Vance said, smiling lightly.

"Oui, zhat eel true." Alan agreed, nodding. They reached the dining room-slash-recreational room. It was a large room with a large table and nine seats to the right of the room, and a window that shows the kitchen. Pyro was in the kitchen, bending over the stove. Tony was chopping vegetables and smiling at the Pyrotechnician. Nick was watching some baseball on the television, as was James. They were sitting on the three-man couch in front of the television. Heavy and Sven were looking at the large variety of books on the bookshelf to the left of the room. Vincent was passed out on the carpet in front of James and Nick. 

"Hey boys! Dinner's ready!" Tony called out, setting a steaming pot of soup out.

"Oh heck yes!" Nick exclaimed, getting a bowl and getting first in line. Sven came next, then James, Heavy, Alan, Vance, and finally Vincent got behind Nick.

"Alright, we have vegetable soup and roasted chicken, take a plate and a bowl! Y'all eat up now, don't be shy!" Tony exclaimed, pouring a spoonful and then some into Nick's bowl.

"Careful, it's hot too!" Tony warned the Boston boy. He only rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah yeah!" and immediately dug in.

Right on cue, Nick managed to swallow the piping hot concoction down with a lot of difficulty, saying things like, 'Ah, hot!' and 'Oh god that's hooooot!' in the process.

Pyro came out with a roasted chicken soon after everybody had their helping of soup, cutting the pieces evenly. Nick got the largest piece and Vance got the smallest, since he claimed that he was full.

"Now look here boy! Yer' as thin as a stick! Y'all need ta' eat more if ya' want to survive this situation!" Tony exclaimed with gusto, spearing a piece of chicken with his fork and munching on it, giving Pyro a thumbs up in approval. 

The chicken was thick with juices and it was easy to swallow. Nick asked for seconds, as did Tony and James. Heavy ate three bowls of soup and a piece of the chicken and that was it. Sven ate evenly and stiffly, mumbling in German. Nick was chattering, even with his mouth full of chicken. How he did not choke, nobody knew. James was eating loudly, spittle and pieces of chicken flying out in front of him. Vance and Alan both ate at the same speed, taking small bites of chicken then drinking some soup. Vincent ate some of the chicken before drowning everything down with his whiskey. Tony ate silently, giving compliments to Pyro every once in a while. Pyro did not eat at all, basking in the compliments thrown at him happily.

"This was good 'nd all, Mates, but wot time do we wake up 'nd when's our first battle?" Vance asked, wiping his mouth.

"You have training for a week, then we have the first battle on Monday morning. James will be in charge of physical bodies, Vance, aiming and ammo count. Nick you will be in charge of cardio and Sven will check up on everybody tomorrow morning, understand?" Miss Pauling asked. She suddenly appeared at the door, holding a clipboard and reading off it.

"YES MA'ME." James said, saluting with a mouthful of chicken.

"Yeh." Vance said, sitting back in his chair.

"Sure!" Nick said, smiling lightly.

"Jawol." Sven said, staring at his chicken.

"Alright, everybody get a good night's sleep, you might need it…" She said, eyeing James warily.

Right after she had left, James jumped on the table yelling, "ALRIGHT MAGGOTS, WE GET UP AT 0600 SHARP. IF YOU MAGGOTS AREN'T THERE BY THEN, I WILL PERSONALLY SHOVE MY FOOT SO FAR UP YOUR ASS YOU WON'T-" He was then hit across the face with Vincent's bottle again.

"Good riddance…" Vincent said, faceplanting on the table.

"Ya said it, Mate." Vance said, smirking as James slowly crumbled, faceplanting into the chicken. Pyro yelled out in surprise and Vincent dragged an unconscious James into his room yet again.

"This'll be a loooong week…" Vance said, rubbing his eyes behind his Aviators.

"Oui." Alan agreed, sighing and crossing his legs under the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LIke I said, Chapter 3 will be up as soon as I fix some of the errors and grammar mistakes, but Chapter 4 will take a while, and I'll post it tomorrow at the latest.


	3. Chapter 3: Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of Training!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 will be up tomorrow, I promise... Maybe.

Chapter 3-Monday

Day 1:

"Alright, since Sven said that he was too tired to check on everybody, seems like I'm tha' first to go! Five times around the track, go!" 

Nick smirked as he ran ahead of everybody, It was Monday morning, the week of training. Nick was used to running in the sun, therefore he was bringing up the front. He even started to jog lightly, which still was too fast for his team to keep up.

"C'mon slowpokes! Ya' need ta' run fasta' than that to survive out here!" Nick called back, seeing the enormous distance he had put between him and his teammates. He put on a burst of speed and raced across the race track, and bypassed the Heavy. He quickly clapped the giant man on the back and said, "C'mon big guy, ya gotta run faster than a speedin' bullet if ya' wanna survive!" He exclaimed, smiling. 

Sven was bringing up the front now, with Nick running with Heavy and giving him encouragement. Nick then zipped through the crowd, shouting stuff like, 'C'mon Tony!', and 'Hurry up Vincent!'.

Nick zipped ahead and joined Sven, saying, "Hey, yer pretty fast!" 

"Danke…" Sven panted. He had sweat running down his face, fat beads of the liquid running down his face and down his neck.

"Hey, you alright?" Nick asked, staring at the pale doctor. "Slow down a lil' you'll tire yerself if ya' continue like this! Be like tha' lazy bum, Alan. He ain't even tryin'." Nick rolled his eyes. Sven chuckled, but he didn't turn back. Nick flipped himself over, so he was running backwards.

He saw the Pyro struggling to keep up with the Soldier, who with renewed vigor started to sprint. Behind to Pyro was Tony's short gait. Vance followed Tony closely as did Alan. Vincent was sandwiched between Alan and Heavy. Heavy brought up the rear, his bald head shining in the New Mexican sun. Sven and Nick brought up the front, both sweating, but Sven more so than Nick.

"C'mon guys, just one more lap 'nd ya' can take a break!" Nick said, waving his hand at the tired men behind him.

Once the lap was complete, most of the men were resting by the water cooler, snoozing under the shade of their resupply room, or just talking to each other. Vincent, Sven, Heavy, Tony, and Alan were taking a short nap under the shade and air conditioned room of their resupply rooms. Nick, James, Pyro and Vance were by the water cooler, drinking water.

"Ya' did good, James! Ya' nearly over ran Vance!" Nick praised, smiling at the older man.

"Tch, t'was because Alan distracted me when Oi was runnin'. Tha' bloke was paler than an albino rabbit!" Vance exclaimed, looking at the sleeping Frenchman in worry. During their short stay, they had quickly become best friends, finding stuff in common in abundance.

"Yeah.. Ya' need ta' improve on ya' Stamina, Frenchie." Nick said, pushing Alan gently, but gently enough not to wake him.

"Yeh… So who's on duty tomorrow?" Vance asked, seeing the sun dip down the horizon.

"I say we split this up to two days, we got the whole six day week anyways! Our first battle is next Monday." Nick said, pulling his arms above his head in a much-needed stretch.

"Yeh. So I'll take Wednesday 'nd Saturday?" Vance asked. Nick nodded.

"I got today 'nd Thursday." Nick said, smirking. 

"James, ya' got Tuesday, 'nd Sunday… We still got Friday… I ain't runnin' on a Friday, that's when tha' Sox's play!" Nick said, clapping his hands together.

"Oi'll take-" "I'LL TAKE FRIDAY. NOTHING BETTER THAN INCREASING THE STAMINA OF THIS POOR TEAM!" James suddenly exclaimed, waking everybody up. Sven gave a small growl and fell back asleep. Alan, startled, fell out of his seat and onto the cold, marble floor. Tony jumped a little, then relaxed lightly, his guard still up. Heavy gasped lightly then shook his head. Vincent stayed asleep in his drunken stupor.

"Nien, I still need to check your physicals on zhat day… Perhaps I could be moved up to tomorrow? James could take Friday and Sunday, I'll take Tuesday." Sven argued, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes from under his mask.

"So tha' pattern is Nick today, James Tuesday, me Wednesday, Nick Thursday, Sven Friday, me Saturday, 'nd James Sunday?" Vance asked, ticking each day off on his hands. Everybody was alert and listening once they had rubbed the sleepiness out of their eyes. Tony and Pyro had left to make dinner, which left Sven, Heavy, a drunk Vincent, and Alan. 

"Seems about right." Nick said, shrugging.

"Alright, I vant to see all of you in mien waiting hall by six o'clock am. Ve have a lot of vork to do. Don't be late."

"It's alright, I wake up at five every morning anyways." Alan said, standing and walking to the teleporter Tony had built ahead of time.

"Yeah, yeah…" Nick said, following the Frenchman through the teleporter after it was finished recharging. James jumped on and Vance followed, dragging Vincent with him. Sven followed Vance and Heavy brought up the rear.

Dinner was good. It was mashed potatoes with green peas and left over chicken.

"Hey, Py…" Nick said, using his nickname. Pyro's head snapped up at the mention of his name, mumbling something into his air filter.

"Ya' sure ya' rebaked tha' chicken correctly?" Nick asked, feeling around his mouth with his tongue, making weird faces.

"Mmhm." Pyro said, nodding.

"Cuz I can feel some hai-OH GOD." Nick's face quickly contorted into one of absolute horror. He plucked a large strand of hair from his mouth.

"UGH. JAMES?!" Nick asked, staring at the other American.

"WHAT?! I DON'T HAVE HAIR THAT LONG!" James exclaimed, taking his cap off, and true to his word, there was little to no hair, just a fine line, buzz cut.

Everybody did a hair check. Vance had short, brown hair, Sven had short black hair, Tony had a buzz cut, similar to James', Heavy had no hair at all, and Pyro and Alan refused to take off their masks. All that leaves was Vincent…

"ALRIGHT, MAGGOT, SHOW US WHAT"S UNDER THAT HAT!" James said, cracking his knuckles.

"Wh-?!" Vincent started before James pulled his hat off, making his hair frizz up. He had a large afro.

"What the-?!" Nick asked, comparing the long piece of hair in his hand to the Scot's hair. IT was the exact same color and length! Nick hasn't felt this sick since his brother accidentally left a used condom in his bed…

"Oh… My… GOD." Nick screeched, running like a bat out of hell, running back to his room and slamming the door closed.

"Well, there goes me appetite…" Vance said, holding his stomach. Alan just stared at Vincent in disgust, realizing that he had also eating the chicken. Heavy stared at the chicken, as if contemplating whether or not to eat it. Sven stared at the chicken, like Heavy, but with wonder instead of curiosity. James tried not to look sick, but the paleness of his face said otherwise.

"'m goin' ta' bed…" Vance mumbled, holding his mouth and stomach simultaneously. Alan quickly agreed and followed the Australian out, quickly followed by Sven and Heavy. James had to excuse himself to go throw up in a nearby bucket and Vincent just stared at everybody, bewildered.

"What?" He asked, obviously missing the punchline.


	4. Chapter 4: Tuesday

Chapter 4-Tuesday

The flicks of pen on paper sounded across the silent waiting room. Sven was busily taking down notes, noting everybody's appearance, hygiene, and such.

"Alright, first up?" he asked, clicking the button on the wall, the ticket number ticking from 00 to 01. Nick stared at his number, he was first up.

"It just had to be me…" Nick mumbled, standing up from his sitting position. 

Vance was sitting next to him, his scarf wrapped around his neck, but he was missing his vest. Alan sat next to Vance, giving a small yawn. Pyro was sitting next to him, trying to light a lighter, holding an old magazine in his hands. Vincent was sitting in front of Alan, bottle of what he claimed to be 'Scrumpy' in hand. Tony was sitting next to Pyro, tuning his guitar that he had brought with him.

"Very good, sit down on zhe table, bitte." Sven said, guiding Nick through the already clustered office.

"Geez, Doc. We've only been here for what? Two days? Haven't ya' ever heard of CLEANING?" Nick asked, gesturing to the room. There was a machine hovering above the operating table, a red glow to it. 

"No time for cleaning, I needed to go over everyzing first. I vill clean today." Sven said, clicking his pen on his clipboard, which he was carrying.

"Take your shirt off and come here." Sven said, gesturing with his pen to stand on the scale given.

"Alright." Nick said, shrugging. He stripped his red track suit and took his white tank top off. This was just a physical test, nothing else, right?

He stood on the scale, and Sven carefully measured his height and weight.

"Very good here… You seem to be five foot four… About… Seventy nine kilograms… Zhat's healthy." Sven complimented. 

"English, Kraut." Nick said, folding his arms.

"Didn't zhey teach you how to convert Kilograms into pounds?" Sven asked, motioning for Nick to lift his arms.

Nick did that and replied, "Nah. Got kicked outta High School. Said that I was too 'destructive' or sommin'." Nick said, as the German measured his arm span, then his torso.

"Mmm…" Sven mumbled, taking down messy notes, then pushing Nick to the operating table.

"Tell me, have you ever been through surgery?" Sven asked, laying the boy down.

"Err… I once had my appendix removed, why?"Nick asked, curious.

"Because today, I need to replace your heart vith one zhat can be used for mien Medi-Gun. Regular hearts cannot stand zhe voltage." Sven explained calmly.

"W-W-Wait, TODAY?" Nick asked, shouting.

"Ja. I already did it to Heavy, you don't see him out zhere, do you?" Sven said, pushing his Blighted Beak up further to not obstruct his vision.

"O-Okay then…" Nick said, lying down again, he had bolted up right at the mention of having his heart removed.

"I'm trusting' ya, Doc." Nick said, as he felt a needle be injected into his blood stream. He heard Sven mumble something worriedly.

"Whaaaat?" Nick asked, his wording slurring.

"Nozzing!" Sven said a little too quickly.

"Dat don't sound like nothin'…" Nick slurred.

"Vell, I may or may not have overdosed you on zhis drug… Don't vorry, zhe results are only temporary… I hope…" Sven said, smiling reassuringly.

"Right…" Nick's head fell onto the table again.

 

When Nick woke up, he found himself laying on one of the many gurneys sitting in the room next to the operating room. The operating room had two other rooms attached, Sven's office, and the gurney room. The gurney room had nine beds.

"Ugh… What the-?" Nick asked, holding his head, but found that he could not move his arms.

"Ah, gut your awake." Sven's voice called out. Nick turned his head, and saw the doctor standing near the door.

"Tha' hell happened?" Nick asked, trying to move his arms and legs.

"You went unconscious, so I decided to operate on you, and it turns out everyzing is gut! Everybody got zhe Uber-heart transplant, and now ve are ready for zhe battle!" Sven exclaimed happily, smiling. Nick turned his head again, since his bed was closest to the door and to the doctor. He saw James laying next to him, still unconscious.

"Eh…" Nick said, head hitting the bed.

"I'll bring dinner for you and zhe rest of zhem." Sven said reassuringly.

After a few hours, Sven returned with a pot of stew. He carefully poured the stew into the nine bowls he had brought with him. He then opened a compartment in the bed's, showing a table. He pressed a single button and everybody's bed rose so that they could sit properly.

"Alright, Heavy, could you help me monitor everyone?" Sven asked. The Russian was standing beside the German, like a bodyguard.

"Da." The Russian said.

The Heavy and Medic helped everybody eat, and change their bedpans ("Tha' hell's this metal thing under my butt?")

They retired for the night, the surgeries left little time for Sven to relax, so at night he would let his doves out.

"Ah… Archimedes. Zhere you are!" Sven exclaimed happily when his doves were out of their cage. The bird now perched on his shoulder was bloodied, a large stain on it's white feathers.

The bird coo'd and flew off to join it's flock. The German was inside his office, he had already set up, books up on bookshelves. He stretched his arms above his head and gave out a weary yawn. He glanced at the clock and noted that it was ten o'clock at night. Heavy had retired back to his room and his patients were fast asleep.

He pushed himself off of the chair and decided to browse his entire collection. He found books upon books of German medical history, German medical books, and German literature. He stopped on one particular book, remembering his childhood. He pulled on the spine, showing a dusty cover and the words, "Lessings Werke". He smiled as he turned around to sit back down and turning on his lamp light.

He read the children's book for a solid hour, before deciding he has had enough. He recalled his birds back into their cages before falling asleep in the chair, book still in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's super short, I know, but I'll try to make Chapter 5 longer, promise (maybe)!!!


	5. Chapter 5: Wednesday

Chapter 5-Wednesday

Vance stood in front of everybody, his vest on. He had his scarf hanging down from his back, which was wrapped around his neck to keep it from falling. His hands were on his hips as he stared intently at the eight other men.

Heavy was busily polishing his weapon, a large mini-gun. The giant gun matched the giant exponentially well. Sven was checking his Medi-gun, which was the main reason why he had to perform heart transplants on everybody. 

"Zhe Medi-gun gives you invulribility for about eight seconds." Sven had said as he made in incision in Vance's chest.

Pyro was busy with waxing and cleaning his homemade flamethrower. Nick was polishing his baseball bat, and James was shining his RPG. Alan was brushing off his knife and putting it into his jacket. Tony was busily making sure his Sentries were set as well as his Dispensers. Vincent was drunk, again, but he was holding a Grenade launcher haphazardly, his finger twitching to the trigger once in a while.

"Alroight, mates. Let's have a go at this!" Vance said, smirking. He pressed a button and several moving cardboard cutouts started moving towards them. The cutouts were designed with their own stock weapons, and could fire them. They were designed to act, talk, and even look like them, minus the cosmetics. In the front, there were Scout cutouts, behind the Scout's there was Engineers, Soldier's, cloaked Spies, Snipers, Pyro's, Demomen, and Heavies. All that was missing was Medic's, but Miss Pauling still had not programmed the Medic cutouts with their Medi-guns yet.

Nick sprinted out first, having drank an entire can of his BONK! Atomic Punch beforehand. He had his baseball bat at hand and he busted a cutout's head right off. Tony followed, shouting, "Sentry, goin' up!"

"BONK!" Nick exclaimed happily, smiling brightly as his bat connected to another cutout.

James had ran ahead of everybody, having pointed the rocket at his feet and crouch-jumping. He went soaring above everybody and had goomba-stomped on the Sniper target. He then aimed at the Engineer target and it exploded on impact.

Heavy and Sven came out next, since Alan had cloaked and was nowhere to be found and Vincent was busily placing Sticky Bombs wherever. Vance was watching from afar next to Tony.

Pyro came in close with a Soldier target and it immediately set it on fire, laughing maniacally under it's mask. Vance took a shot and hit an enemy cardboard cutout.

"That kid generally scares me…" Tony muttered worriedly, staring at the burnt Soldier cut-out. His Sentry beeped and he exclaimed, "SPAH SAPPIN' MAH SENTRY!" as he whacked the Sapper off of his Sentry. Vance immediately moved, Shiv in hand and his SMG in the other. He shot in the corners, waiting for the Spy cut-out to show itself.

He heard James' war cry and he felt the heat of the blast. The Spy cut-out was laying on it's back, scorched beyond belief. Alan then appeared next to Vance, "I zhink it's going pretty well." He complimented, shooting his Revolver at the Sniper cut-out just a few yards away from the training room. 

"Yeh." Vance simply said as he gunned another Spy cut-out. He scoped again and spotted a cutout Soldier coming close to Scout, and he had a cut-out Medic by his side. He immediately shot the cutout Medic through the head, the wood cracking under the extreme speed of his bullet. That got Nick's attention as he swung his bat backwards, hitting the Soldier cut out with precision. 

"Thanks!" Nick exclaimed, giving Vance a thumbs up before sprinting off again. 

Alan had disappeared, but the pained cries of the cardboard cutout's resounded across the field and robotic cries of, "SPAH OVAH HERE!" and "SPAH SAPPIN' MAN SENTRY!" called out across the field.

After the training, James was the most heavily damaged, since he was soaring with his so called 'Rocket Jump'. Tony had some shrapnel stuck in his skin when a Spy had successfully Sapped his Sentry, and Vance had a scar on his cheek from an encounter with a Spy Cutout.

"Man, those cutouts are DANGEROUS!" Nick exclaimed, rewrapping his hands and checking the resupply closet, and grabbing another can of BONK! Atomic Punch along with an entire pack of bullets for his Scattergun.

"They were programmed by Miss Pauling, I heard." Vance explained, sipping his coffee and grabbing his bow and several arrows. He deposited the arrows into the arrow-holder that he always had.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch! Doc, can't ya use anesthetics or something'?" the Texan asked the German doctor, who was busily pulling out pieces of metal from the shorter's arm.

"Nien, zhe only anesthetics I own put you to sleep, and zhe next wave is coming." He stitched up the Texan's arm. "Zhere, all done." He said, pointing the Medi-gun at him and healing the stitch.

Alan was smoking a cigarette. Out of all of them, James, Nick, Vincent, Heavy, Pyro, and Alan had gotten the most kills. Tony was too preoccupied with his machines, Vance was in a bad position with Spies creeping on his every so often, and Sven was busy with healing his teammates to take out his Crossbow and attack. 

"Alroight, everybody, get in position! Tha' cutouts are comin'!" Vance exclaimed. He had went into battle, his SMG, Shiv, and Huntsman in hand. He swung his Shiv around and killed a Spy cutout, who was creeping up on him. He immediately gunned down a Scout cutout, who was quickly approaching him. He then pulled his Huntsman out and pointed the arrow at the Spy who was decloaking behind Sven and shot it between the cutout's eyes.

"Danke, Herr Vance!" the German exclaimed, overhealing James and Heavy.

Vance immediately turned around when he heard uncloaking and swung his Shiv and his body around, pulling out his SMG and shooting. The cloaked Spy cutout immediately fell forward, bullet holes in it's chest and it's head cut cleanly off.

"Good thing these thing's aren't real, otherwise we would have a hell o' a dry cleanin' bill…" Vance muttered, staring at his Shiv.

He then heard Sven scream and he immediately rushed forward, attacking any spare cutouts on his way there. He saw Sven, but not Heavy nor James around him…

"Sven, you alroight, mate?!" Vance asked, picking the German off of the ground that he was laying on. Pyro was looking worriedly around, setting fire to the cutouts that dared to go near the two.

"J-Ja… Vhere is Heavy and James…?"

"They went to help Scout capture tha' Intel. Don't worry, ya' can stay by me, just keep tha' Crossbow 'nd Bonesaw near."

Sven slowly stood and took his crossbow out, his bonesaw on his belt, hitting his leg with every movement he made. Vance lead the way to the trio, having Sven overhaul him to charge his Uber-charge meter.

"I am fully charged!" Sven shouted, not long after.

"Let's have a go at it!" Vance exclaimed, shooting the Sentry a cutout Engineer had set up.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! I got it, I got it!" Nick yelled, grabbing the Intelligence from the table it was sitting on. He yelled out when a rocket landed directly at his feet, making him drop the Intel on the way. 

James immediately stood and grabbed the Intel and started shooting rockets at every cutout he saw, while Sven was overhealing him.

"Go, Schnell, Go! Get zhe Intel back to zhe base, go!" Sven exclaimed as he took cover behind a wood fence that had wires that covered him. He immediately started to shoot crossbow arrows at the cutouts. When the cutout's got too close, he would saw them in half with his bonesaw, which he was brandishing dangerously.

"GO!" Sven shouted at James, shooting another deadly arrow at a cutout.

"YES SIR!" James gave a smirk as a ton of cutouts started to close in on him. He quickly rocket jumped out of the field, leaving Sven, Nick, and Vance alone to deal with the oncoming horde of cutouts.

Alan suddenly appeared next to Vance, "Bonjour!" He exclaimed, shooting a Sniper cutout that was aiming at Vance.

"Thanks, mate!" Vance said, standing back to back with Alan. Sven and Nick were standing back to back as well, Crossbow and Scattergun in hand.

"Sven, Alan, duck!" Vance exclaimed, shooting an arrow at the Sniper cutout that was aiming at the two.

"Thanks!" "Danke!"

The cutouts stopped moving, then one by one they started to fall over.

They had won.

"We did it, mates! James got the Intel back to tha' base!" Vance exclaimed happily, smiling brightly at the debris around him.

"Ja! Ve did it Kamerad!" Sven exclaimed happily, hugging Nick tightly, to which the younger man replied with a soft pat on the back.

"'nd seems loike tha' Uber-charge of yours works perfectly foine on us!" Vance congratulated as well.

"Ja! Oh, I must write zhis down! Zhis is important scientific discovery!" Sven said quickly, running back to the base. Vance chuckled and Alan lowered his Revolver.

"'m hungry…" Nick complained.

"Don't worry, mate. Pretty sure Tony 'nd Pyro got us covered." Vance replied to the boy. Alan just smirked and popped another cigarette into his mouth, offering one to Vance, which he declined.

"Don't wanna end up on me deathbed at fifty, mate." He had said.

"Suit yourself." Alan said, shrugging.

 

Dinner was very successful. Pyro had roasted a celebratory turkey, stuffed with fried rice, corn, and stuffing. Sven had made beef stew, and Tony had made corn bread.

"Woo! What a feast!" Nick exclaimed happily, taking a little bit of everything. He started on the turkey, savoring it's sweet taste, then moving on to the stuffing. It was tangy, and left a spicy taste in his mouth. The stew was juicy, especially with the meat. The corn bread complimented the stew perfectly, soaking up the juices and blended the salt with the sweetness in the bread.

"Oh god this is so good." Nick said, mouth stuffed with turkey and stuffing.

"Yeah!" Vance also complimented, smiling as he shoveled another spoonful of rice into his mouth. 

"Yeehaw! Y'all dig in now, there's enough ta' feed everyone!"

Nick, James, Vincent, and Vance all got seconds. Sven had finished after he had eaten a little of everything, the stew the most out of everything. Heavy had a large plate of turkey, some stuffing, and a little plate of cornbread. Tony and Pyro had already eaten they claimed. Alan had eaten only the stew, claiming the turkey looked too greasy for his health.

"C'mon pardner! Yer' waaaay too skinny anyways!" Tony had shoved a plate of cornbread to him.

"Next time, why doncha cook then?" Vance had suggested. Which lead to an argument about who was going to cook and when.

When they had finally settled, they had decided to let Alan cook on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. Pyro and Tony could share the kitchen on every other day.

"Alroight everyone, off ta' bed!" Vance exclaimed, smiling lightly as he drank his cup of coffee.

"'re ya sure ya are supposed ta' drink coffee before ya' sleep?" Nick asked Vance,

"Nah, it's decaf." Vance said, holding his cup up.

"Okay then…" Nick said, still unsure.

"Nick, your up next." Vance reminded the younger.

"Oh shit, yeah you're right! Offta bed for me then!" Nick exclaimed, stretching and leaving the recreational-slash-dining room.


End file.
